Great. Just Great.

You guys all voted for humor, which is basically the one thing I don't really write.  But I'll try anyway.

This was from an excerise that I did in the class referenced here.

There was an envelop of cards with professions, and an envelope of cards with an action.

My results:

"Guy that writes blurbs on goldfish bags"

and

"defends his/herself with a toilet scrubber"

Enjoy!

#

Hank pressed his back to the bathroom wall as he heard Kermit and Randolph stomp up the stairs.


“Alright, Mr. Wise Guy,” Kermit called, “you just come on out of that bathroom and we’ll have a talk. I’ve got my evidence right here.”

For maybe the fortieth time that month, Hank regretted writing that new blurb on the side of the goldfish cracker boxes. He cursed himself once again for dooming himself by using those two names, Kermit and Randolph, as names of happy goldfish. He never wanted to invoke the wrath of two hit men in the area who also happened to have those names. It was just a coincidence, he wanted to yell, but that would have meant using his vocal chords, which seemed to be failing him. He heard Kermit and Randolph draw closer, and he looked frantically around the bathroom for something to use to defend himself.

Toothbrush?

Too small.

Sink?

Stuck to the wall.

Medicine bottle?

Too light.

Toilet scrubber?

Toilet scrubber...

#

With a wild yell, Hank burst out of the bathroom, surprising the two ski mask clad hit men into dropping their bags of goldfish. He clobbered them over the head with his toilet brush, sending them both flailing to the floor, where they also dropped their guns. Hank kicked the weapons into the corner and made a quick 911 call while still battering Kermit and Randolph with the toilet scrubber.

#

By the time the police showed up, Kermit and Randolph were begging for mercy from Hank and his scrubber of doom. The two criminals were escorted out of Hank’s apartment to the waiting squad cars and Hank’s boss, who had heard that his best blurb writer had been attacked, jogged up the stairs to meet Hank.

“What happened here?” He asked. “Are you alright? When can I expect you back at work?”

“I’m not going back to work,” Hank told him. “I quit, unless you give me my own bodyguard. This is a very dangerous profession.”

#
 
TTFN
 
M.K. Wissler